The Walled City
by Shuuka-over-Rin
Summary: A short narrative on the events leading up to the destruction of Kowloon: The Walled City.
1. Chapter 1

Author note: Unless I'm just being an ignorant search-bar failure, I think it's safe to say that this is the first story up on fanfiction involving Kowloon as a major character. If not, so be it, but I'd still like to draw attention to the area. More can be read up about the Walled City on both Wikipedia and actual accounts citizens and/or visitors have made about what life was like in Kowloon. If you have any interest at all, I really encourage you to look into "his" story. I won't blabber on here about the background information, but I know that some major points about Kowloon will not be explained as clearly as I'd like in this story alone. For any other fans of the "HK family" out there, please say hi and let me know if I'm doing alright! I can promise that canon!Macau will be making an appearance in later chapters, so please review :'D even if it's a slap in the face, it helps.

Aside from that, I hope you enjoy!

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Hong Kong was never really surprised by the rather large amount of stares he received wherever he happened to go. As a person, he was often looked upon with surprise for his large eyebrows (it wasn't his fault he had them, nor was it genetics'). As a nation, he was made fun of for his rather creative ways of boosting his economy. Granted, it _was _a 4-D porno; but hey, it made the money – what's to complain about? And as just another Asian teen walking through the undusted streets of Victoria Harbor's finest ghetto, the cheesy Mandarin shopping bag sort of stood out.

He didn't really mind though; food was cheaper at Aniki's place anyways.

He often made trips to the Walled City. This time, however, was special. Not every day was New Years. Well, American New Years.

"You have lanterns? What for? Buy too early and it will be too late – realize you have brought last years'." The apartment keeper laughed as Hong Kong walked by.

"Not if I make them." He didn't smile (he never does, really), but he found the old man's flat humor amusing.

Usually one would have to pay a fee to visit on someone else's property, but Hong Kong had paid as many times that the man claimed he could retire happily on the teens' fees alone. "_Mou man tai!"_

The one thing he could never get over was the stairs. As a rather high-tech city, the contrast between his apartment and his brother's was like comparing a French pastry to mashed bean. The metal steps shook and squeaked as he went up. A few were missing though Hong Kong had figured by now which ones could actually hurt you when stepping in the wrong place.

Hand-made red and gold dragon and fish kites hung from the metal poles that held up various parts of the establishment. To anyone else, they were only shacks stacked on top of one another, but to Hong Kong, this was the world. Despite their reputation as "just another shanty town", the people here had real culture. They didn't need any sort of song or sport to hold them to it; they had each other.

Chimes of old soda cans hanging from the ceiling rang as he squeezed through the tightly knit entrance for the outdoor hallway. He felt like a gymnast; balancing several full grocery bags while trying to keep his eyes off the twenty-foot fall, his only protection a rusting fence with drying towels and faded clothes. An elderly woman cursed at him for coming up so high, claiming he was just another teenager trying something stupid.

Hong Kong bowed to her nonetheless, a small smirk on his face, "_Fong sam, jii_."

It was rare he showed his friends and family any sort of emotion, but back home where the only people he knew didn't remember him, he was like any other visitor. His smile, however, ended quickly at a note hanging from the detached door of his destination.

"…impounded?" He read aloud. "But I paid over for it last month…"

It was a funny thing to say for a place he didn't even live in. The apartment, if even that, seemed dead to the world. Outside, faded shouts of children and trash-made wind chimes filled the air with a dreary note. Hong Kong sighed and pulled down the slip, sticking a corner in his mouth so he could kick the door off its last hanging hinge, hands already full.

"If you're not here then I will make bao with your birds in the center."

With that, he failed to make any sort of threat. His voice sounded like a child wanting their mother to buy candy from the grocery store, a monotonic yet dragging tone he had held since his days under British rule.

He received no reply. Sighing, he fought his way through the piles of crumpled up papers and newspaper leftovers. "You really ought to clean this place…through I know you won't."

Again, no reply, "_Where the bloody hell did he manage to wander off to now?_" Hong Kong mused, only slightly surprised by his twin's tardiness.

The inside of the apartment was a small room, sort of like a walk in closet. The place to remove your coat and shoes was filled with trash and Buddha knows what else. Hong Kong made his way into the next room; half was an office, the rest with what seemed like a mattress piled up on stacks of old books and other "recycled" space-fillers. An automatic fan blew old papers and torn window curtains in a melodic way. The late-day sun could hardly shine through the clouded windows, leaving a sort of gloomy feeling to prowl around the flat.

"I knew we should've rented a loft." Hong Kong sighed and set down the bags on the only clean surface, the coffee table. His twin had his feet up, placed only a few inches away from a pair of goldfish barely moving around their open top bowl, a small trail of drool hanging from his chin.

"Wake up, stupid." Hong Kong kicked the chair the other was leaning back on. "You're competing with your idiot fish for the life of this place."

"Pftt-…!" Kowloon scrambled to grab hold on something, anything to keep him from falling back. "S-shit!"

Hong Kong sighed as the chair came down; Kowloon had failed. "Mmmph…stupid thing."

Kowloon was just as old as Hong Kong but seemed like a teenager when it came to appearance. His hair was always a mess, as if he had just gotten out of bed. He rarely changed his clothes. _Either that, or he just owned several pairs of the same green shirt and slip pants_, Hong Kong thought. And when it came to personality, Kowloon was no more mature than a first-year primary student.

"..."

"Idiot."

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I'll be aiming to get the next part up soon. I realize the amount of people interested in characters like this amount to nothing more than a handful (or at least, that's what I've observed so far), but I'm still going to try and keep this story updated as quickly as possible. I don't normally publish stories here without first finishing them, so this "write-publish-write-publish" bonanza will be a first-time for me.

But above anything, please review ;;!


	2. Chapter 2

"_Idiot."_

There was no sympathy in Hong Kong's voice. There never was, really. Even with complements, he could make people feel bad. But that's just how he was – and sometimes it seemed that only Kowloon could look beyond that…even if Kowloon was the least grown up out of all his family..._and the rest of the world's population._

"Yeah, yeah…" Kowloon lazily picked himself up, readjusting his olive green hat before going to fix the chair. "…you better have brought cake."

"I should have eaten it." The other smirked before going to place the fish bowl near the window and clean up the table the best he could. "One of these days your apartment is just going to collapse from weight."

Kowloon happily poked his brother's cheek, "Maybe. Maybe not." Hong Kong ignored him while he tossed the table's mess of papers to the corner where the rest of them layed, covered in dust and…was that bird waste?

"Ugh. This place is disgusting."

"So's your face."

Hong Kong sighed and flung a pack of candies at his brother's face. His only weakness against Kowloon was his temper, which Kowloon happily manipulated to make him look like even more of a fool. "You know, boss man's thinking about tearing this old place down."

"Aniki? What, forget I exist again?" Kowloon, despite his seemingly 'Amer-I-can' attitude, was often forgotten by the rest of the Asian family. No one even knew why he existed (not that they remembered long enough to think anything of it), as he was more of a city than an actual nation-state, but Hong Kong couldn't find much of a problem with it - Kowloon had enough personality to fill up the entire planet. "I'm serious, _sho-te_."

"_Che,_" Kowloon stuck out his bottom lip, "He'll have to remember my name first."

Hong Kong sighed and began his rounds to bring at least some of the room together while his twin munched away at the solid sugar. He moved together old news deliveries and advertisements to the bin near the door. "t'was supposed to be for recycling…"

"So you really think he'll get rid of me?" The sun had began to set and Hong Kong could tell he was serious, "I mean, I don't take up that much space…and the crime rates aren't too high, you know?"

Hong Kong went over to clear off the stove before getting up his mini-steamer, "It isn't really about you, _di-ge_." You know your land is precious; no matter how productive - a shanty towns' a shanty town."

Kowloon grumbled and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them in a sort of childish fit. "We don't have Nintendos, so what?"

"Industrialization isn't important either. _Ge ge_ has plans. And….you're in the way." The later sighed as he drowned out the last few words, sensing a rising temper in his twin.

"So what!" His fist hit the table and Hong Kong sighed, bringing over several bowls of food. "Here, eat. You haven't had home-cooked food in a while, I'm sure."

Kowloon refused to touch the collection of dishes, "He can't do that. Not without you saying so."

Sighing, Hong Kong reached across his brother to fix himself a bowl of rice and soy, "I can't just say 'no' forever,"

At that, the conversation ended. Hong Kong wasn't sure if he should have felt bad for what he had said, it seemed strange either way. It was true, and Kowloon knew it. In their world, nations didn't have individual rights. They were property, playing pieces for enterprise.

"_Di-ge…_"

"Just shut up." Kowloon grabbed a bowl of white rice and stood up, "Lest you have a family."

Hong Kong watched as Kowloon made his way out of the apartment, his bare footsteps resounding through the apartment even after he'd left. The elder of the brothers knew Kowloon would be on the roof. After all, it was where the both of them went when they needed to think; the highest elevation they could get to.

Sighing, Hong Kong pulled off his "mandarin" jacket and layed it to the side. His undershirt was already covered in a combination humid dust and sweat. Honestly, he couldn't see what 'big plans' his older brother had for this place. Tearing down the cardboard city would just open up a living hell-hole. Aside from the heat, the place rarely got rain. Here, his Aniki had nothing more than a desert and a lazy asshole to personify it.

"_Ge ge_," He pleaded, a nearly begging look pulling his older brother into relapse considering his decision.

"What I have decided, I have decided." China huffed as he held tight his crossed arms, coming off to Hong Kong as pouting more so than assuring his position on the matter. "I do not need to put in anymore concern on this matter. After all, do you really think I can change that much? If you want something done, go to that idiot opium father of yours. It is his police your friend's "community" is breaching: not my problem."

Hong Kong had to admit, his older brother's English had much improved since they had last spoken.

Nonetheless, he didn't have much of a choice. In less than five years, he would be returning to the now "People's Republic" - there had to be something his 'aniki' could do. "He's not my friend, _Ge ge_, He is mine - and your - brother."

China scowled and turned from his to-be colony, "Aiyah! You are only making up things now!"

"_Ge ge_...-"

"You do not even speak Mandarin! Don't start this with me, _sh__ǎ__ guā_!"

Hong Kong looked up with a mildly surprised look, having never been cut off - nor so openly insulted - by his older brother before. Having realized what he had done, China sighed and put his hands up apologetically before switching over to his roughly kindergarten Cantonese, "_don't be angry with me, as I have you_."

"_I didn't know you spoke my language_." The "half-Brit" mumbled, having yet to recover from his elder's tantrum.

"_You are forgetting who your real family is_." China sighed and looked up to Hong Kong, "_Even so, I am sorry...I cannot do anything for you now. If your owner does not agree then there is nothing anyone here can accomplish_."

"_You don't feel remorse for me nor my brother, so I do not need your supposed sympathy_."

Before China could snap back at him for, "disrespecting your elders, aru", Hong Kong had stood up to leave. "_When you are asked kill him, be still and know it is me you are throwing yourself against_."

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Yes, a quick update. Same day actually, sorry about that. Updates should not be expected this quickly. The next part is still a work in progress: I'm about 3/4 done, so it shouldn't be that long of a wait. Until then - I hate to beg, but please review! And thanks for reading!


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